m morn till eve
they passed in and out, very often to proffer a request, or, again,
simply to pay their respects and have the pleasure of a few minutes'
chat. After his morning ride, Mr. Rhodes, if nothing called him to town,
usually walked about his beautiful house, the doors and windows of which
stood open to admit the brilliant sunshine and to enable him to enjoy
glimpses of his beloved Table Mountain, or the brilliant colours of the
salvia and plumbago planted in beds above the stoep. I often call to
mind that tall figure, probably in the same costume in which he had
ridden--white flannel trousers and tweed coat--his hair rather rough,
from a habit he had of passing his hand through it when talking or
thinking. He would wander through the rooms, enjoying the pleasure of
looking at his many beautiful pieces of furniture and curiosities of
all sorts, nearly all of which had a history. Occasionally shifting a
piece of rare old glass or blue Delft china, he would the while talk to
anyone who chanced to come in, greeting heartily his old friends, and
remembering every detail of their circumstances, opinions, and conduct.
Concerning the latter, he did not fail to remind them of any failings he
had taken note of. Those who were frauds, incompetent, or lazy, he never
spared, and often such conversations were a source of much amusement to
me. On the other hand, those who had been true to him, and had not
veered round with the tide of public opinion after 1896, were ever
remembered and rewarded. It was remarkable to note the various Dutch
members of the Assembly who dropped in, sometimes stealthily in the
early morning hours, or, like Nicodemus, by night. One such gentleman
came to breakfast one day, bringing as a gift two curious antique pipes
and a pouch of Boer tobacco. The pipes were awarded a place in a glass
cabinet, and the giver most heartily thanked; he finally departed, well
pleased with himself. Now comes a curious trait in the man's character.
Before leaving he whispered to a friend the request that the fact of his
visit should not be mentioned in Cape Town circles. This request was
naturally repeated at once to Mr. Rhodes, much to the latter's
amusement. As ill-luck would have it, the cautious gentleman left his
umbrella behind, with his name in full on the handle; this remained a
prominent object on the hall table till, when evening fell, a trusted
emissary came to recover it.

I often used to visit the House of